“That is terribly inconvenient,” she complained.
“I have been told I excel at inconvenience,” he replied, sounding entirely unapologetic.
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips despite her irritation. “You excel at many things,” she blurted before she could stop herself.
Gabriel looked almost startled. Amelia wanted the floor to swallow her whole. Fortunately, the music ended before either of them could recover. The dancers began applauding politely. Gabriel released her hand slowly. Far too slowly.
Then he escorted her across the ballroom toward Valerie, who waited near the refreshments table, looking both elegant and terrified. Her pale pink gown shimmered beneath the candlelight while pearls decorated her carefully arranged hair. To anyone else, she probably appeared perfectly composed. Amelia knew better.
Valerie looks ready to faint.
Despite the elegance of her appearance, Amelia could see the strain around her eyes and the way her fingers kept tightening around her dance card. To anyone else, Valerie might have appeared calm and composed. Amelia knew she was only moments away from complete panic.
“Lady Valerie,” Amelia said warmly as Gabriel stepped away, “how are you faring?”
Valerie groaned and pressed a hand dramatically against her forehead. “I am dying.”
“You look remarkably healthy for someone dying,” Amelia replied, fighting a smile.
“I assure you it is a tragic decline,” Valerie declared, letting her hand fall.
Amelia laughed. The familiar dramatics eased some of her concern. If Valerie still possessed enough spirit to exaggerate her suffering, she could not be entirely overwhelmed.
Valerie glanced down at the dance card hanging from her wrist.
“It is full,” she said mournfully, staring down at the crowded dance card as though it contained a list of impending disasters.
“That is good,” Amelia replied, folding her hands in front of her.
“It is horrifying.” Valerie looked up with genuine distress in her eyes.
“That is less good.”
Valerie sighed dramatically and let her arm fall to her side. “Everyone expects me to dance.”
“Because it is a ball,” Amelia pointed out, unable to suppress a smile.
“I dislike that explanation.”
Amelia squeezed her arm gently, hoping to steady some of her nerves. “You will be wonderful.”
“You are biased,” Valerie accused, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
“Entirely,” Amelia admitted, smiling back at her. For all Valerie’s complaints, she already looked far more confident than she had only a few weeks ago, and Amelia could not help feeling proud of her.
Valerie’s expression softened. Before Amelia could continue reassuring her, she spotted Dr. John Hunt crossing the ballroom with a glass in his hand. An idea immediately formed. A terrible idea. Which generally meant it was an excellent one.
“Dr. Hunt,” she called brightly, stepping directly into his path.
John looked wary. The easy smile vanished from his face as he slowed to a halt.
“That tone concerns me,” he said, stopping in his tracks and eyeing her with open suspicion.
Amelia smiled sweetly, which only seemed to deepen his concern. “I require medical assistance.”
“I knew it,” he muttered, closing his eyes briefly as though appealing to heaven for patience.
Amelia fought back a laugh as she knew he was teasing. “You see Lady Valerie?” she said, nodding towards the young woman beside her. “She is suffering.”
